Chunky Monkey
by ShayChambers
Summary: Request; Eclake. Clare wants to explore the part of Jake's world that he's kept hidden from the family, and though he's reluctant, he lets her in on it. When Eli pops up, it could go one of two very different ways. Rated T for drug use and later content. May change.


**A/N: Lots of people have been requesting an Eclake story from me, and I have to be honest, I do like that ship, hehe. I'm not sure how long this is going to be, but I can promise at least one more chapter. Eli will be in my next update.**

**Happy birthday Domenica & Paige!**

"Clare…"

"No! If it's so important to you that you feel the need to undermine the entire purpose of my family meeting to impose a curfew on yourself, then I would love to know what's so great about it," Clare countered huffily, impatiently crossing her arms over her chest.

"Clare," Jake started again, growing impatient himself. "You're the one who threw a hissy fit when you found out Eli was doing it, so why would I let _you_?"

"You're why Eli was doing it," she grunted.

"Eli's a big boy, he makes his own choices, now answer my question."

Her eyes narrowed, and you could tell she was working out something devilish in her head. "Because I'm not telling mom and dad that you're still smoking," she answered steadily, her eyes trained on Jake's face to gauge his reaction. His eyes mimicked hers as he flicked back and forth, trying in vain to call her bluff.

"Fine," he grumbled, shuffling the pillows off of his unmade bed and taking hold of the tattered old sock monkey lodged under them.

"What…" she croaked, infinitely perplexed until he dug through the neck to procure a long white stick. "In the monkey…" she murmured, blinking rapidly at the oddity of it all. He led her out of his room and then the house, situating himself in the driver's seat wordlessly. Though still confused, she followed is lead, climbing into the passenger's seat and turning to him as he started the ignition. "Where are we going?" She asked, staring at the suddenly mute driver. She sat back in her seat, buckling herself in, though that was deemed unnecessary as they pulled onto a nearly empty dirt road two streets out of the subdivision and Jake cut the engine. "This is where you-"

"Shh," he hushed her, the first sound from his lips since his initial refusal. She watched in awe as he pulled the joint from the pocket of his flannel and dug a lighter from his jeans pocket, lighting the end and inhaling like it was nothing.

"Jake! People _do_ live on this street, what if someone sees you? Or me! What if someone sees us?"

He only laughed, taking another puff and exhaling it into the cab of the truck, making Clare wrinkle her nose at the smell that she realized she didn't hate. Suddenly it dawned on her that the odor was familiar. She turned more towards the smoke billowing from Jake's mouth, sniffing until she realized that _marijuana_ was what she'd become so accustomed to the whole duration of her relationship with Jake. It was that, that she'd fallen asleep wrapped in whenever she wore his hoodies to bed. It was the remnants of _that_, which she'd tasted in each kiss. The scent wafted closer and it took a few moments for her to realize that the smoking substance was being held out to her. She took it between her fingers, staring at it with an expression of anxiety and utter blankness before staring up at Jake. "You're wasting it," he drawled, watching the smoke rise. "Have you ever sucked the helium out a balloon?" He asked, and she shook her head, earning a scoffed laugh. "Wow, this is the worst idea ever," he muttered, shaking his own head. "Just act like you're sucking on a straw, or is that too risqué for you too?"

Wielding back, Clare rapped him on the shoulder, pursing her lips and huffing softly. Fed up with him talking down to her, she followed his instructions, taking a much bigger hit than any newbie should; her eyes widening at the foreign burn as she held her throat in panic. A small squeak escaped into her mouth and she turned to Jake with puffed cheeks, silently begging his aid. "Uh, just… don't cough, okay?" Perhaps it was the innate sibling rivalry between the two, but as soon as the "don't" came from Jake's mouth… she did. At least until Jake clasped his hand over her mouth, trapping the breath in. "You're a terrible listener," he taunted, tilting his head. "If you cough, you'll just get higher, and if this is how you react after one hit, I'm not sure I can deal with you stoned. So slowly blow out the smoke when I let go, got it?" She bit back the urge to clamp her teeth onto his hand and nodded, squirming as she began to get lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. She abided the new line of instruction, exhaling the puffs in her cheeks until she could breathe again.

"That's… that's it?" She chimed after a moment of gauging any potential shift. "I don't feel any different! I swear, Jake, if you're tricking me and that monkey was filled with oregano!"

"My monkey is perfectly legit, Edwards, relax. One hit won't do much, even for someone as _painfully _inexperienced as you. Take another one if you're so desperate." Part of Clare wondered if Jake spurred her on purpose sometimes, using how naïve, innocent, and yes, inexperienced she was to talk her into behavior that she would never otherwise consider. If he did it consciously, it worked. Bringing the drug back to her lips, she took a more measured draw of the fire, swishing it in her cheeks for a few seconds before blowing it out. Jake nodded, and if she didn't know any better, she'd say he looked proud. Perhaps she'd underestimated the drug's strength, or simply been too impatient for results, but with the air thick with secondhand haze, and two long drawls in her system, she was certainly feeling it now.

"Woah," she whispered, staring around at everything and nothing. Jake laughed beside her, and she turned to face him. "I- this is what it's supposed to feel like, right? I didn't do it wrong and now I'm dying?" He chortled under his breath, rubbing the bridge of his nose and grinning at her ridiculousness. "This is why I told you it was a bad idea to do this. You're dramatic enough sober," he teased, nudging her shoulder. She stared at the appendage for a long moment, trying to assess the touch.

"Do… do that again," she moused, still staring at herself. Jake cocked a brow at her request, but moved his hand back to her, prodding her again.

"Woah."

"You already said that."

"It didn't stop being woah."

"This was a terrible idea."


End file.
